


Garage Sale

by katrinawritesthings



Category: SHINee
Genre: M/M, Polyamory, Trans, jong2min
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-10-20 20:24:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10670118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katrinawritesthings/pseuds/katrinawritesthings
Summary: literal-exhaustion asked: Jong2min just being like cute fluffy boyfriends living together, maybe? Your writing is the absolute best and also I hope you feel better!also for jjongsjjugs bc they gave me the idea for the garage sale uwuin which minho gets too attached to inanimate objects and also jongtae are transHe snatches up Jonghyun’s puppy-painted lamp and clutches it to his chest protectively when someone new passes by to browse.tumblr





	Garage Sale

****Minho is a little sad to see his little counter blender go, to be honest. And by “a little sad,” he means he can feel his heart clenching painfully as he watches someone carry it into their little Porsche and toss it in the passenger seat. He used that little blender. Every morning. He’d wake up, go for a jog, take a shower, and make himself a power smoothie. Then sometimes Taemin would come grumble for waking him up so early, and then Jonghyun would steal a sip or two, and… fuck. He feels guilt churning in his gut. He needs to get that blender back. **  
**

He clenches his fists a few times at his sides before turning and aggressively walking to the other side of his driveway instead, where Jonghyun and Taemin are both smiling through the sale of a cute leaf lamp. Minho feels his heart clenching again as the lamp leaves Jonghyun’s hand in exchange for two dollars and twenty-five cents. Taemin won that lamp in a raffle once. He loved that lamp. _Minho_ loves that lamp. This is all horrible and wrong.

“Guys,” he whines, wiggling between the two of them and grabbing for their hands. “Guys, I’m feeling gross again.” This was such a bad idea. They don’t need to sell all of this. Who cares if between the three of them they have like, twenty-seven lamps. They can just wrap up the others and put them in storage and then they don’t have to sell their memories. He snatches up Jonghyun’s puppy-painted lamp and clutches it to his chest protectively when someone new passes by to browse. They can’t get rid of this. Jonghyun loves dogs.

“Oh my god.” Jonghyun tugs the lamp away from him as gently as possible while Taemin doesn’t even try to muffle his snort of laughter. “It’s _okay,_ Minho,” he says soothingly. “Really.” He lifts to his tiptoes and tugs Minho down to press a little kiss to his cheek before putting the lamp back down.

“We took pictures of everything already, remember?” Taemin asks. Minho nods, but keeps pouting. Yes, he remembers. He made them take pictures of everything because it was supposed to make him _not_ feel like he was throwing pieces of his life away. What a great piece of help that was. This isn’t what he expected when they finally all got around to moving in together. It was supposed to be all cute snuggles and movie nights and shared bills and shit, not an hour long debate over which clocks to sell and which to keep. Taemin nudges his side pointedly, pulling him from his thoughts. “They’re all in your scrapbook so you can look back on them whenever you want and remember that time there was a nest of dead flies in that Spongebob cup.” He gestures towards the end of the table where they’ve stacked all of their excess dishes.

“Wait, what?”

Minho takes his eyes off of Taemin to see someone standing there, holding the Spongebob cup in their hand and looking at the three of them in horror. They put the cup down and scuttle away immediately, and then Jonghyun turns to frown at Taemin.

“What the fuck did I tell you about saying that out loud?” he hisses.

“We washed it like, four times,” Taemin calls helplessly after their back. They don’t come back and he deflates. “Shit,” he mumbles. Minho goes back to his pouting, tugging one of his old lamps forward. It’s the green one that has a hot glue smudge from where he stuck glow in the dark stars on it when he was in high school. You can’t just _sell_ shit like this. You can’t put a price on sentiment.

“I don’t know, I just… I sold my blender,” he mumbles. That blender was a part of his daily ritual and it feels like he just sold a part of his soul.

“Is that really what this is about?” Jonghyun asks. He’s giggling, but still trying to sound sympathetic, so Minho guesses he’ll allow it. Jonghyun slips to his other side and reaches up to cup his face in his guitar-calloused hands. “Bro,” he says. “You _know_ yours was shit. It made the most awful noise every other time you used it. Mine is literally the exact same model _and_ it still has the warranty.” He slips his hands down to rub soothingly over Minho’s shoulders as Minho sighs. Yeah yeah yeah. He knows. He just can’t help himself. He gets too attached to things.

“Look, do you wanna just go inside?” Taemin asks, leaning on his shoulder. “We can do this ourselves. You can start making lunch or something.”

“No, I’ll just, I’ll be fine,” Minho says. Taemin is working every day on not being mean to himself and Jonghyun hasn’t cried about moving away from his mom and his sister in almost a week. If they can work out their own problems then he can work out his own irrational guilt too. “Just.” He takes his green lamp and kind of moves it to the back of them all, behind his ugly yellow one and the one Jonghyun dropped that morning when they were setting up. Yeah. That’s better. Jonghyun rolls his eyes; Minho bumps their hips and slides his hand down his back until he finds Jonghyun’s back pocket. He slips his hand in there and smiles pleasantly.

“Hey,” Jonghyun says, frowning at him and trying halfheartedly to pull away. “There are like. Little children here.” He gestures over to where there are indeed little children looking through their double or triple movies. Minho hums, then shrugs and sticks his hand into Taemin’s back pocket as well.

“Ooh,” Taemin smiles, wiggling his butt against Minho’s hand. “Nice.” Jonghyun huffs.

“I meant, like, _stop_ touching my butt, maybe?” he says. “We’re supposed to set a good example.”

“I am,” Minho says. “In a healthy polyamory like this one all butts get equal treatment.”

“True,” Taemin says. His hand wiggles itself into Minho’s back pocket and Minho grins. Jonghyun rolls his eyes again and doesn’t put his hand into Minho’s other back pocket. Minho can’t really find it in himself to be disappointed.

He keeps his hands in his babes’ pockets until Taemin leaves them to help someone lug his old nail polish-stained coffee table into the bed of their truck. Jonghyun fluffs through his hair comfortingly, but Minho doesn’t really mind losing that one. He’s stubbed his toe on it more times than he can count.


End file.
